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Updated: June 15, 2025
The gypsy wildness is in the blood, but I shall always come back to the Forest to rest." "She will keep up that delusion in her own mind to the last," said Mr. Phipps. Then after an instant's pause, as if purposely to mark the sequence of his thoughts, he asked, "Is that gentleman who is staying at Fairfield with you now, Mr. Cecil Burleigh, a Woldshire man or South country?"
All her heart desired was being left farther and farther behind, and attraction there was none in Woldshire to which she was going.
"Have you ever seen Abbotsmead, Bessie?" she said. "No, my lady, I have never been in Woldshire since I was a baby. I was born at Kirkham vicarage, my grandfather Bulmer's house, but I was not a year old when we came away. I have a drawing of Abbotsmead that my mother made it is not beautiful."
I never heard you were coming. What a surprise for them all! They will be delighted." "I am staying at Fairfield," said Bessie. "There had been so many disappointments before that I would not promise again. But here I am, and it seems almost too good to be true." "Here you are, and a picture of health and beauty; you don't mind my telling you that? Nobody can say Woldshire disagrees with you."
He made a secret of it, for which there was no necessity and not much excuse, but he did it for their happiness. They have three capital little boys, who, of course, have taken my shoes. I am not sorry. I don't care for Woldshire or Abbotsmead. The Forest has my heart." "And mine. A man may set his hopes high, so I go on aspiring to the possession of this earthly paradise of Brook."
"Woldshire," said Bessie curtly; and the color mounted to her face at the boldness of her old friend's insinuation. Mr. Phipps admired her anger, and went on with great coolness: "He has some reputation member for Norminster, I think you said? The Fairfaxes used to be great in that part of the county fifty years ago. And I suppose, Miss Fairfax, you can talk French now and play on the piano?"
Wherever Bessie goes she will hold her own. She has plenty of character, and, take my word for it, character tells more in the long-run than talking French. There is the gig at the gate, and I must be off, though Bessie was starting for Woldshire by the next post. The letter is not one to be answered on the spur of the moment; acknowledge it, and say that it shall be answered shortly."
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